


Running with the Wolves (to get to you)

by fractalsin



Series: Fairy Tale Retellings [5]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: East of the Sun and West of the Moon AU, M/M, fairytale retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-01 08:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalsin/pseuds/fractalsin
Summary: An AU where Takao Kazunari travels across the land to pick up his husband, who is inconveniently engaged in conjunction to the troll princess and very much in acute distress.
Relationships: Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari
Series: Fairy Tale Retellings [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/805257
Kudos: 10





	Running with the Wolves (to get to you)

**Author's Note:**

> college killed me and the knb fandom is semi-dead but aight have some midotaka/takamido :)) lots of liberties were taken and its not proofread so it's probably a mess, I'll get around to fixing the mistakes once college is more lenient I guess :( it's amazing how this is the only WIP that's actually finished, probably because it's so short.  
Title taken from the song Wolves by Selena Gomez. Based on the Norwegian fairy tale East of the Sun and West of the Moon.
> 
> Edit (11/19): He's really called Takao in the fic, while Midorima is called "Shintarou" because that's what Takao calls him. I'm so used to calling Takao 'Takao' that it kind of stuck. Hopefully it isn't too bothersome; I swear I'll get around to changing it one of these days! :(

Takao Kazunari didn’t come all this way just to see the troll princess smugly grin at him and treat his presence like dirt.

It was his third time by now, and he was tired and desperate. A part of him was angry too, but for the most part, he was just frustrated and wanted to tear those tangled knots from her large, thick skull. The rest of the trolls were less hideous, at best having a misshapen nose or a dismembered ear. Perhaps that was why this ordeal was happening in the first place – no one wanted to marry her for who she was or what she looked like – she was lonely and liked playing games.

_I’ll outsmart you yet, _Takao said to himself, unsettled by the gazes he attracted across the throne room. He was unsure where this strength was coming from, but he was always unnaturally stubborn. As the item was snatched from his hand, his eyes strayed to the desk beside the princess, where the golden apple and the gold carding-comb was placed from the two days before.

“How pretty,” She crooned, her red eyes glimmering underneath painted lids as she admired the craftsmanship of the golden spinning wheel, “One night it is, with my groom-to-be.”

Perhaps he was lucky the trolls were blind enough to see him merely as indignant and stubborn, and not as what he really was, if his red-rimmed eyes were any indication – a wanderer with an aim, yet no means, who could have made better choices along the way but had nothing in his power to change that.

* * *

The troll’s castle, for all that it was with its stone corridors and night revels, was static. This was especially so during the nighttime, when his footsteps seemed too loud and endangered him at every turn. They were aware, of course, of his endeavor, but it didn’t ever cross their mind he would succeed. Takao couldn’t blame them, because neither did he – and as he made the long walk to the groom’s suite, he felt unease settle at the pit of his stomach, fully prepared for this night to be another failure.

The suite was unguarded, save for a lock that moved on its own, sensing intent. It was the only door that was enchanted, and from before, was probably much like the other ones, daunting and unforgiving. After all, this part of the castle was where the prisoners were.

Just as the door opened, he swore he heard a laugh, not at all harsh like the nights before, but welcoming, and even encouraging. His breath caught in his throat.

“You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Takao frowned, holding his hands to his hips. Indeed, it was true – he wanted to collapse out of relief, “Whose fault do you think that is, exactly?”

“Yours.” The man on the bed said frankly, and it was true. They both knew it. Wearily, Takao sat on the stool beside the bed, the door closing in on itself with a long creak. Takao was unsure who broke the silence first.

“You-“/”I-“

Perhaps it was just Takao, but after seeing only ghastly things on his way here, it occurred to him once again that he could finally look at Shintarou properly. It was more than just a moment of candle wax and betrayal. Now, they properly saw each other, and looked without clouded judgement.

The laugh that escaped from Takao’s lips was more of a chuckle than anything else. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

“If I was, you’d be crying at my bedside.”

Takao looked away at such characteristic frankness, but his heart felt light. “Surely you knew by then, that she put a sleeping draught in your drink each night.” He looked towards him and pointed an accusatory finger, jabbing it into his chest, “I would understand if you didn’t know first time, but the second-“

“I willingly took them, yes.” Shintarou told him. Takao searched for any remorse on Shintarou’s expression, only to remember that in those times, Shintarou didn’t know he’d be here, looking for him, but there were many more questions, ones Takao couldn’t phrase into words. A stark contrast to how he usually was, he found himself silent, the weariness catching up to him as he heard the words, “You must understand why I had reason to think that you would not come.”

Takao gritted his teeth, “I came at my _conscience-“_

“No,” Shintarou said with certainty, “Perhaps there was doubt that you would choose to come, but there was greater doubt for you to find a castle that was east of the sun and west of the moon.”

“By all means, Shintarou, I had _help_. From witches, from winds…”

Shintarou nodded. “And you’ve come far.”

Whether or not Takao was seeing things, he chose to believe that the expression on Shintarou’s face was one of gratitude, because anything else would have driven him insane.

“Sleep seemed merciful.” Shintarou started, “I could not, for the lack of a better way to phrase it, close my eyes without thinking of your lack of faith, and that come morning, what we could have had would be gone. Sleep seemed merciful,” He repeated himself, and Takao found that something inside him stung, as he could imagine and understand what that felt. “With this third night, the chalice with the draught was there, but one of the prisoners told me from behind their door that someone had come for me, and that their cries could not let them sleep soundly at night.”

Takao frowned. “That loud, huh?”

Shintarou nodded, having no intention of denying it.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Takao said heatedly. “And you weren’t supposed to hear it. Of it, anyway.”

“Rightfully, you shouldn’t be. As for being rudely interrupted-“

“Yes, yes.” Takao deadpanned, waving his hand dismissively and letting Shintarou continue.

“In sleep, she did not bother me. You must understand that it was a draught so strong, that seeing dreams would be quite a rare occurrence.”

Takao was surprised when Shintarou pulled him closer by the dangling edges of his shirt, close enough that their noses almost touched. In the blue darkness, painted warm hues of orange by the lamp’s fire, the green of those eyes shone like deep pools of emerald. 

“It was until I understood that someone had come, from the opposite corner of the world, to save me from this ordeal when others deserved better, that I stopped myself.”

Takao’s fists clenched up on his lap. It was not the first time they were in such close proximity, and yet it seemed like an experience not relived, but newly made. “What kind of mother does that to her son, anyway?”

Shintarou leaned back against the headboard, but his hand was on Takao’s. “When your mother told you I could be a troll, it was without the knowledge that such words would cause you to be bereft of safety and to endanger your life for the sake of someone who had taken you away from your home.”

“Leaving was a choice my father persuaded me to make.” Takao interrupted him, that train of thought, “And I grew to care, after I understood. At first, it was far too easy to turn away, but then, I kind of knew? I knew that no one else could bring you back, and that I held myself responsible.

I don’t blame my mother for what happened, but I didn’t blame you for what your mother had planned for you either. That would just be wrong. It’s not the same. You’re wrong to think that it is.”

He could imagine, then, what kind of words Shintarou’s mother might have said to Shintarou, after Takao lit the lamp and cast shadows over Shintarou’s silhouette. He could still remember Shintarou’s haunted face that night, his hunched back carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and his words laced with poison.

_“I am cursed to marry the troll princess east of the sun and west of the moon. You were my chance. You were free to go as you wished, so long as you came back and kept your promise, but you did not.”_

Against irreparable wrongs and perhaps, the mocking laughter of destiny and its driving forces, here they stood. 

Takao was unable to hold his breath any longer, openly sighing. “My question still stands. What kind of mother does that to her child anyway?”

Shintarou grimaced. “A stepmother," He said, "Whose daughter is in want of a groom.”

The situation sunk in. Takao, with widened eyes, found his hands slamming on the mattress, his face an inch closer to Shintarou’s. “_What _was your father thinking?”

Shintarou remained unfazed. “Similar to what your father was thinking, I suppose, when a white bear came to his house claiming that it would make him rich in return for his son. The trolls’ monarchs are quite wealthy.”

Takao snorted, allowing himself a notch of self-pity that yes, his father had indeed done that. “Wealthy enough to even ransom you just so I can have one night of your company? For a golden _comb_, no less.”

“Humans always do questionable things.” At this, he looked pointedly at Takao. Takao felt his heart pick up and manage a quick thud.

Without thinking much on it, Takao pressed his lips against Shintarou’s. They didn’t linger much; after all, they could be elsewhere, a place of prying hands instead of prying eyes.

“I’ll take that as a thank you.”

“It was.”

Takao was already standing. Shintarou, dressed in a sadly standoffish red coat that looked straight out of a horror cabinet, was a sight that could have made Takao laugh any day. It was probably being so overwhelmed with relief to see him again that Takao found the difference negligible. There were simply better days. He gestured to the door.

“The other prisoners, you’ve interacted with them?”

“Yes.” Shintarou replied, “They offered rather valuable information.”

“About escape, I hope.”

There was a cursory nod. “And discrepancies. It will not be so difficult, if we collaborate our efforts.” Just as they stood in front of the door, it began to open with a long, dragging, creak, until Shintarou was quick enough to stop it.

“And they told you because you’re the most trustworthy looking guy in this place?”

“They would favor any fate over having to marry the troll princess,” He said matter-of-factly, “And I plan to help them.”

Takao hummed. “Surprisingly, I agree. I won’t be surprised if she keeps a torture chamber or something.” He tilted his head, “We can discuss the plans before heading out.”

Shintarou, for the most part, did not fail to express his admiration for Takao’s vigilance.

“You seem rather confident.”

“Trust me, after the long road, I doubt you’d be any less than confident facing dangers.” Takao stopped, briefly staring off into space. After a while, he shuddered. “Trolls,” He began, smiling, “Really are the least of my problems.”

“But you will not be alone to face them now.”

This time, the smile was shared.

It would be a night owned not by kings and queens but by vagabonds and bandits, east of the sun and west of the moon, breaking out into the night as free men. 

**Author's Note:**

> The fic only actually makes sense when someone reads the fairytale. I'm sorry for writing this trash. Thank you for sticking around!  
//rolls away


End file.
